Each night he would lay his head on his bedroll and fall asleep instantly. Then he would be woken up when first light reached over the hills and eat cold, lumpy breakfast porridge. Then he would work until the sun grew too hot, and eat some hot, lumpy mash. The he would work until darkness fell over the camp, and he would sit down to eat more hot, lumpy mash. Then he would rest his head on his bedroll and fall asleep instantly.
This was Tobias’ life now, and it would remain this way for a long time.
This was Tobias’ life now, and it would remain this way for a long time.
The sun was beating down on Tobias once again as he laboured. Chopping trees was not easy work, not that he had ever though it easy. Frankly he had never thought of the activity before in his life. For him, firewood was something that could be picked up at the market or on the outskirts of the city. In the city he hadn’t need that much in the way of heating, since the heat from all of the bodies crammed into one place made the place much hotter than normal. The city guards would clear the paths and pile the snow against the houses to keep the heat in during the winter. Basically Tobias felt very lost and confused as to why chopping a tree was so hard. It had been done for hundreds of years, so why couldn’t he do it?!
With that last frustrated thought, Tobias swung the axe with all of his might. The metal head sunk deep into the wood, deeper than he had done before. For this Tobias rejoiced, as he was finally making progress.
His joy quickly vanished when it became obvious that his axe was lodged deeply in the wood, too deeply to be pulled out. He sighed.
He had to call over one of the other men to pull it out, as usual. The others were kind enough not to point out Tobias' failures, but Tobias did know better.
Instead of chopping wood, he was given another task. A hammer and fistful of nails replaced his axe and he was pushed to work with Morrys, Jeremiah, and Edward.
"Ready?" Morrys asked. Tobias hesitated.
With that last frustrated thought, Tobias swung the axe with all of his might. The metal head sunk deep into the wood, deeper than he had done before. For this Tobias rejoiced, as he was finally making progress.
His joy quickly vanished when it became obvious that his axe was lodged deeply in the wood, too deeply to be pulled out. He sighed.
He had to call over one of the other men to pull it out, as usual. The others were kind enough not to point out Tobias' failures, but Tobias did know better.
Instead of chopping wood, he was given another task. A hammer and fistful of nails replaced his axe and he was pushed to work with Morrys, Jeremiah, and Edward.
"Ready?" Morrys asked. Tobias hesitated.
He found though, that the work was not so bad. The trees around had been chopped down, but a pile of logs provided a nice spot of shade. He set down to carve the edges of the logs to ready them for placement. Jeremiah provided to be a good mentor and not one to judge. Morrys was the strength needed to lift the logs, while Tobias found his soft handling was useful in the whittling the edge pieces for the logs. These curved dips were needed about half a foot from the end of each log. They would provide a dip for the connecting logs to stack, forming a sturdy corner. These would not tumble, especially not when they were also pasted with a concoction Jeremiah remembered from his grandfather's days.
This Tobias enjoyed. Not the working with his hands part, no. He also thought hisself more a creator of the delicate things in life. Carvings, yes. The odd painting in his youth with coloured dirts on an easel of driftwood. But this scraping and carving proved itself to be something that Tobias could work with, much more so that the rough chopping he did before.
At night now, sometimes he dreamed of his daylit carving. His sleep thoughts went further than the dips he had to do. Sometimes he imagined whittling a hunk of wood. When he awoke one morning, a sleep thought stayed fresh in his mind. That morning, day, and evening food break was split between taking a mouthful of food, and working a short knife on a chunk of wood much like the one in his dream. It was a day and a half before the carving became what he had imagined.
Alys could not hide her shock when her husband skidded to a stop by her as she gathered plant life on the edge of the woods. He came to crouch by her, and held her by her arms. His words slipped together and made it hard to understand, but months of marriage had helped Alys understand her husband's moods and babbling.
Once he calmed down, he produced his work. A strange bird, made of rough wood was presented to her with barely contained glee. Though strange, she smiled at the working knowing when and when not to question her husband. Perhaps this ... thing would finally help him relax and accept their new home. She felt his tense body next to hers at night and no solution had come to help. Perhaps now he would rest easy.
This Tobias enjoyed. Not the working with his hands part, no. He also thought hisself more a creator of the delicate things in life. Carvings, yes. The odd painting in his youth with coloured dirts on an easel of driftwood. But this scraping and carving proved itself to be something that Tobias could work with, much more so that the rough chopping he did before.
At night now, sometimes he dreamed of his daylit carving. His sleep thoughts went further than the dips he had to do. Sometimes he imagined whittling a hunk of wood. When he awoke one morning, a sleep thought stayed fresh in his mind. That morning, day, and evening food break was split between taking a mouthful of food, and working a short knife on a chunk of wood much like the one in his dream. It was a day and a half before the carving became what he had imagined.
Alys could not hide her shock when her husband skidded to a stop by her as she gathered plant life on the edge of the woods. He came to crouch by her, and held her by her arms. His words slipped together and made it hard to understand, but months of marriage had helped Alys understand her husband's moods and babbling.
Once he calmed down, he produced his work. A strange bird, made of rough wood was presented to her with barely contained glee. Though strange, she smiled at the working knowing when and when not to question her husband. Perhaps this ... thing would finally help him relax and accept their new home. She felt his tense body next to hers at night and no solution had come to help. Perhaps now he would rest easy.